QUINN

Fear is such a fickle thing.

One day, it can feel all-consuming, like nothing exists except debilitating anxiety. And the next day, it just disappears. Poof. Gone. Like it was never even there.

I'm not really all that scared to tell Cash what happened between Hunter and I anymore. Which is kind of interesting if you ask me, seeing as how the last time he asked me about it, it felt like a nightmare coming to life.

But here, right now, as I sit on his lap with my head on his shoulder, it seems so easy. Like walking or breathing. It's embarrassing and awkward – like walking or breathing – but not nearly as nerve-wracking as before.

If I can climb giant trees and queef during my first sexual encounter with the sexiest man I've ever seen and summon cheetahs, I can talk about this.

I nuzzle my cheek against the soft fabric of Cash's shirt, inhaling him as I take a deep breath.

"At first, he just eased off the niceties. Stopped complimenting me, stopped texting back as fast, didn't ask to hang out as much. I didn't really think much of it because all that stuff was just bonus content anyway."

His fingers casually scrape across my lower back, like we're not talking about something serious, putting me even more at ease.

"Then I wouldn't hear from him for days at a time. Sometimes, the only time I'd even get to talk to him during the week was when I was in the class that he was a TA for. It all happened so slow that I guess I didn't really pick up on the signs."

"I completely get that, Quinn." He says quietly.

Yeah, I bet Skylar had the same escalation technique. Toxic people seem to follow similar routines. Like radiation poisoning. It starts as a slow leak and suddenly, you feel sick and can't breathe right and you're bleeding from your butthole. If you're lucky, you'll escape before sprouting a third arm.

"And then came the mind games. Slowly convincing me that I was being needy because I wanted to hang out. Or telling me I was overreacting when I was upset because he ignored me whenever we were around other people. Or accusing me of flirting with anyone I talked to."

"So, I started to back off, staying at home all hours of the night in case he showed up to hang with me. I stopped talking to people because I couldn't trust myself not to 'flirt' with them. And I got used to just sitting in the background when we were with his friends."

Cash's gentle strokes get a little heavier, reminding me that nothing I went through was okay.

"A few months later, I found out about the heroin. Did you know it actually has a smell, Cash? Because I didn't. I got in the backseat of his friend's car and Hunter was burning something in a spoon. It...it smelled. When the needles came out, I tried to remove myself from the situation. That was the first time he grabbed me, to stop me from climbing out of the car. So hard that it left a mark."

"They shot up with you in the car?" His voice becomes strained and grumbly as he tries to close any inkling of space between us, as if he can protect me from the past.

"Yeah." I whisper, not wanting to get him worked up. "We went to a party after that where I was the only one not strung out. I tried my hand at coke for the first time that night. I felt so out of place, and I didn't know what else to do. But, once I had my first bump, I didn't care anymore. It was easier to be there, to be around Hunter while he was fading away from me."

I don't tell him he's the one that sold Hunter's friends the coke. Judging how Cash's leg starts bouncing up and down, jostling my body, I think he's realizing it on his own, though. Maybe I should stop talking about this.

"Keep going." He mumbles, shooting down my thought.

I know he said he can't read minds, but I'm almost positive he lied. I think he's always up there in my head, studying my brain with a tiny magnifying glass.

"After a couple weeks, he started getting more aggressive. Mentally and physically. He'd make rude comments about my body in front of his friends and wouldn't let me talk to anyone unless he was right there next to me. He'd tell me the only reason anyone would want to talk to me is because they wanted to sleep with me. Eventually, it was easier to believe everything he said instead of fighting it."

I swear, Cash's entire body is vibrating with an undefinable energy.

"Where'd you draw the line? What made you decide to leave?" He pushes past his clenched jaw.

Unfortunately, a lot happened between the time he got physical with me and the moment I decided I couldn't handle the relationship anymore. It's actually a relief that he's letting me skip right to the end.

"He overdosed...in my apartment. I came home one night, and he was just lying on the living room floor, gasping for air. I didn't know what was going on until I saw the needle on the table. I panicked. I didn't know if I was supposed to do CPR or if there was something else I could do to help him. I had no idea."

Oh boy, this is harder to recall than I thought it might be. Out of everything, reliving the moment I thought he was going to die in my arms is the most painful part.

My eyelids brim with tears but I press them against Cash's shoulder before they escape. Stay in there, you slippery bitches.

"And then he just started throwing up everywhere. Even when nothing was coming out, he still kept heaving. I turned his head to the side like I've seen in all the movies, so he wouldn't choke on his vomit, and called for help. Once they rushed him to the hospital and I was alone in the apartment, I realized I couldn't keep living that way. Changed the locks that night."

"All the abuse was nothing compared to seeing him like that. I know it doesn't make sense, but I still cared about him. I wanted to help him. I saw him before the drugs took over his life, and I wanted that part of him back. I wanted to be enough for him, be worth quitting for. But he never came back to me, and I couldn't wait around anymore."

I take a shallow breath and try to get control of my emotions. Shut it off, Quinn.

"Quinn, I really hate to sound like I'm defending this guy in any way, but you know that your worth doesn't correlate with his inability to quit, right? Once you're in that shit, you're not yourself anymore. You lose control." His voice is hoarse as he tries to explain.

It's pointless. I'll always feel like I could have done more, and Cash's words somehow solidify that within me.

"So, you're saying it doesn't matter what I did, I never would have been enough?"

He hurriedly shoves me back, so I'm forced to look at his infuriated face.

"Fuck no, that's not what I'm saying. Not exactly, at least. You wouldn't have been enough to break his addiction, but nobody would have been enough, no matter who they are. You have to want to be clean to free yourself from that shit and, even then, it's an uphill battle. You are fucking perfect, but he couldn't see that through the haze. And I'm sorry he didn't, Quinn, I really am. But I do. I see it."

While I want his words to warm my ice-cold phantom heart, I don't allow it.

"Maybe for now. But you'll probably realize I'm not worth it one day too. Everyone does. And then what? I just get left behind again?" I snap, feeling defensive for reasons I'm still trying to wrap my head around.

He grips my waist and lifts me back up onto the table ledge, standing from the bench so he can pace around the grass. He stops during his third stride and turns to glare at me, arms crossed.

"I know I said I'd do anything you asked, but I'm gonna have to revise that statement real quick. One thing I won't do is shoulder the mistakes of some other asshole. I fuck up enough on my own. I don't need you adding someone else's screwups to my list, so stop doing it." His tone is sharp, and it makes me wince, wanting to retreat within myself, but I hold his gaze.

"This is the last time I'm gonna tell you this, so make sure you listen. I'm not Hunter. I'm not Ethan or your mum or your dad or anyone else who's fucked you over. I'm gonna mess up in my own ways, and feel free to chew me out for that shit when the time comes. I'll accept it because that's what men fucking do. We own up to our shit. But I'm sure as fuck not gonna let you lump me in with your misfit boytoys."

Oof, he's sexy when he's all riled up.

If smoke could come out of his ears, I'm pretty sure the entire fire department would be rushing to this scene right now. Oh! And they can bring Cash a uniform and then they can all take their shirts off and start dancing around the park. Sexy flash mob.

I start grinning to myself and, when I don't respond, he squats down and runs his hand through his hair as he puffs out a breath of frustration.

"I lost you, didn't I?" He asks, defeated.

"But you've got such strong shoulders, Cash. You sure you don't want to shoulder the weight of their mistakes?" I don't know if poking the Bearaffe is a good idea at a time like this, but I can't help myself.

The incredulous look on his face is priceless and has me struggling to keep a straight face. But then he's barreling toward me and I'm flat on my back, pinned against the table.

My bottom lip gets pulled between his teeth before our mouths are moving in tandem as he grinds against me, stationed between my legs.

I need to learn witchcraft or something so I can do a spell that makes my clothes disintegrate because, right now, they're such an inconvenience. I guess my lack of insta-nude powers is better if you look at it from the whole public decency angle, though.

"Please don't make me repeat myself." Cash mumbles against my lips.

I moan my very weak agreeance, unable to remember exactly what we're talking about. But I'd agree to anything when he's touching me like this.

An eerie snapping sound fills the air around us and, before I can figure out what's going on, Cash is placing his hands over the back of his head while moving to completely hover over me.

A flurry of branches and leaves rain down on us, some pelting his back and covered head, while the others fall around us. I screech and squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the moment where my human shield retreats and I get assaulted by nature.

It never happens.

When a blanket of silence surrounds us, Cash relaxes his body and peeks up to make sure it's safe. He stands up straight, studying the damage. The tree tried to kill us! I guess it's still mad at me for violating it.

"Huh, must have loosened the branches last time I was up there." I state with amusement.

Gradually, his neck twists to look at me with a blank expression.

"You're cursed." He says, jabbing his finger through the air in my direction.

"How do you know you're not the one who's cursed?"

"Because this shit wasn't happening to me until I started hanging out with you! Were you a dictator in a past life or something? Serial killer? Puppy abuser?"

"Cash! How could you even say that?! I would never abuse a puppy!"

"Oh, but absolute power and murder is a possibility, huh?"

I think about this for a minute, not finding much wrong with those options. I shrug while scrunching my face and his eyes widen. He shakes his head and examines the wreckage again.

"Sooo...guess I'm not getting laid now?" I ask cautiously.

He bursts out laughing and yanks me off the table by my wrist. It happens so fast that I don't have time to fight back as he hoists me over his shoulder. I clutch the tree trunk and, when he starts walking, we're halted by my hold on it.

"Let go of the tree, Quinn!" He huffs out in laughter.

"Never!"

I don't know how he does it, but he manages to turn his body while keeping me on his shoulder and starts pulling. I hold on for dear life.

"You're so...tiny. So how...the hell are you...so strong?!" He grits out in between attempts to tug me off the tree.

I know he's not using his full strength. He's trying his best to be gentle while attempting to remove me from my best friend.

"The cheetah, Cash! We are one!" I yell triumphantly.

"Ow! Shit! What the fuck?!" I hear him roar as my body drops to the ground in a hard fall.

I scurry around, flipping over on my butt to see an elderly woman using her purse as nunchakus against Cash's head and back. He tries to protect himself with his arms while also attempting to gauge the situation.

"Get! Off! That! Young! Lady!" She grunts with each swing.

It's almost too entertaining to interrupt, but I guess I should. That would be the right thing to do.

"It's okay! I'm fine!" I yell, trying to call a ceasefire.

When she finally stops, Cash stays shielded for a minute longer before putting his arms down. As soon as he does, she gets one more good purse-whack in on his chest.

He looks bewildered, still trying to understand how we got to this point.

"You need me to call the police, sweetie?" The old woman asks me, still glaring at Cash.

"No, no. Really, I'm fine. We were just playing around. Promise." I try to speak soothingly, the way I imagine old people like. Whether I nailed it or not, who knows?

"You!" She growls, stepping closer to him. "You shouldn't put your hands on a lady like that!"

"She's not a lady!" He pleads his case, gesturing both hands to me on the ground. "She's a fuck-freaking creature!"

I stick my tongue out at him before giving her my sweetest smile. She raises her purse like she's going to hit him again, and he actually flinches away from her. I bury my laugh into my arm as she stalks away without following through on her final threat.

"What is with all these old women getting into fights for you?!"

I can't tell if he's actually angry, or just confused.

"Cash, that didn't look like much of a fight. You totally just got beat up by a little old lady."

"Don't start, Quinn."

"I'm telling Gio." I say with a sassy head bob.

"No, you're not."

"I so am."

He levels me with his eyes, challenging me. Challenge accepted.

"What's he going to think of his future fearless leader? Getting dick slapped and beat up by senior citizens? Your rap sheet isn't looking too hot."

Cash continues to stare at me, his expression empty, before walking over with a strong sense of confidence that makes my mouth run dry. Did you know the Atacama is the driest desert in the world? Yeah, well, not anymore.

His hand reaches out, so I take it and let him haul me to my feet.

"My house. Now."

This time, I allow him to drag me to his truck, not exchanging a single word the entire drive.

I don't even have time to take in my surroundings when I step foot through his door before he's shredding my clothes off like he needs me more than air.

A trail of clothes leads to the bedroom, and I'm drunk on the warmth of his mouth caressing every single curve of my body. Moans and cries and chest rumbles become the soundtrack to our makeup session.

He's a penis magician, I'm sure of it. Harry Hou-dinky; the less talked about member of the dark arts.

I thought the first time we slept together might have just been an amazing fluke – beginner's luck – but I was sorely mistaken.

All the possessiveness he seems to lack or just chooses not to express in everyday life comes out in the bedroom. Each touch is sensual, aggressive, and needy; every kiss a gateway to something breathtakingly pleasurable.

But, despite the way my body shuts down and falls apart under his touch, one thing is set in stone.

I'm still telling Gio that Cash got his ass handed to him by a shriveled old raisin in the park.